Thanks For The Memories
by Little Halo
Summary: It was just like Potter to do something like this. I am referring of course to the way he ruined my life so easily. He ruined my life so simply it was like a clean cut. HPDM Draco centric


**Warning: Slash! HPDM. Also hints to cutting, self harm and abuse. Draco Centric! Enjoy!**

Thanks for the Memories

It was just like Potter to do something like this. I am referring of course to the way he ruined my life so easily. He ruined my life so simply it was like a clean cut. Like pressing a newly sharpened knife to the skin of your wrist just enough so the blood would flow, but not enough to kill you. Potter was exactly like that. Like pulling off a Band-Aid. Like sticking your hand in a fire and the second it took for your Brian to register the heat. Like a punch in the gut, the kind that sent you keeling over. Like suddenly finding that no air was making it to your lungs. They were all things that I was familiar with and I could spit out a million more similes to describe exactly what Potter was. How one minute (maybe two, I wasn't really keeping the time) he ruined the rest of my life.

It was just like Potter to do something like this. Sitting there across the great hall at the Gryfinndor table smiling and laughing with his friends and his little girlfriend. He held the Weasley girls plate just out of her reach under conditions that she kiss him or at least that what I assumed, because she did kiss him. (On the lips) He returned the plate admiring the blush on her cheeks.

It was just like him to ruin my life and go on with his as if nothing ever happened. Perfect Potter and his perfect life. I hated him. I hated his bloody friends. And more importantly I hated myself. I bet that would shock people. I, Draco Malfoy, hated myself and it's all Harry James Potter's fault.

"Oi, Emily is starring at you." Goyle elbowed me in the ribs with his large arm so hard I nearly fell backwards off the bench. I looked, and she was. Too bad I didn't care. All I could think about was that damn Potter and why I was stuck here thinking about him when he was so carefree. I stabbed my fork all the way though my untouched chicken when he kissed her_. Again_. They should really get a room. I don't go flaunting around my girls all the time. I'm sure they'd love that but I wouldn't. I'd end up cutting off my ears like that French painter Van Gogh just so I wouldn't have to hear them talk. Sitting at the same table with Pansy Parkinson's screeching of a voice for three meals a day was torture enough. Thank goodness she had finally gotten over her deluded crush on me. She was crazy if she ever thought we were going to go any further than fooling around. A real relationship, with feelings and such. That's a good one. Draco Malfoy doesn't do relationships. A lot of people can tell you that. They're right.

I knew exactly the moment when he entered the Potions room even though he sat in the back of the room and I didn't even move my head. How dare he! How could such a ponce, such a goody two shoes do this to me? ME! The chosen one, everyone called him. The magic worlds savor! All because Lord Voldemort put a cut on his head. He didn't deserve it! HE didn't deserve all the attention. The chosen one my ass. He couldn't last one day in my house; it's a miracle that I'm alive and breathing at this very moment.

Hopefully he would trip while carrying a deadly potion and Snape would be just a little too late in helping him. Hopefully Snape would take his time, fishing his wand out of his robes and Potter would be dead, stone cold on the ground by the time Dumbledore heard what happened. "Malfoy!" Snape glared from the front of the room, the old sparkle of concern from earlier year lost long ago.

People thought Snape favored me over everyone else, even over the other Slytherins. How wrong they were. He actually hated me but feared the uncontrollable wrath of my father. He use to care somewhat I suppose when I'd come back from Christmas break unable to even stand up straight without flinching. But my father had crossed him one too many times and that concern he once had turned to hatred for my father and apparently me too for being born into the name Malfoy. Kind of like how he hated Potter because of his parents.

I considered stabbing my hand with the knife used to cut roots I just admitted to having something in common with the person that ruined my life. Such thoughts had to be punished. Maybe my father's tactic actually work and I could teach myself to . . .

Snape slammed his hands down on my table. Apparently the rest of the class was already a third of the way thought today's assignment while I sat in my seat dong nothing. I brushed past him hitting him hard in the shoulder, not by accident. I could hear his cursing and the start of one of the unforgivable curses. He stopped mid-spell. Torturing one of your students in the middle of class wouldn't go over well with the ministry. There was a smirk on my face as made my way to the ingredient cupboard. I walked back to my seat with the necessary items. Potter was sat on his stool with his arms crosses staring straight ahead as Granger mixed his potion with her wand double checking the institutions. His eyes wandered around the classroom in boredom. And for a split second there was a time when his eyes crossed mine. They didn't stop; they kept going like I wasn't there at all. Like I was an empty seat. Non-existent. It was just like him to do that.

I could play this game too. I threw my things on the table, the potion no longer important. I scribbled messily on a spare piece of parchment signing my name faster than I ever had before. I handed it off without worrying if it were legible. If she wanted it bad enough she would find a way to read it. She did want it, and did read it. Emily eyes lit up with delight. Her head popped up to look at me with a hungry smile.

I'd show him.

The class ended and I took my time putting my book away. There was nothing to clean; all that lay in front of me was an empty cauldron. I was the last out of the room. She was there waiting in the corridor just like I knew she would be. No one said no to me. No one. she stood there leaning against the wall twisting a stand of her long dark hair around her index finger. No one was around so I didn't waste any time connecting my mouth with hers. She was taken back at first dropping her books to the floor. She had no problem after getting over her shock.

I assumed she'd be aggressive just like me. I was a good guesser. She yanked at my hair, pulled at my tie and untucked my shirt within the first minute. She looked disappointed when I pulled away but understood when I pulled her by the wrist. I shoved against the stone wall hard trailing down her neck several times before we made it to the common room.

Blaise looked up from a book with a dull look in his eyes when we burst though the door. He lay on his bed, with his hands folded behind his head. He rolled his eyes when Emily appeared behind me. "Get out," I growled. He closed his book and swung his legs over the side of the bed following my order. He took much too long so I crossed the room in a few short strides and grabbing him by the collar and shoving him out the door.

I paid her back for down on my collarbone by throwing her down on the bed.

One night and one more time.

Thanks for the memories even though they weren't so great.

_**He**_ tastes like you only **_sweeter_.**

**A/N: Inspired of course by the song **_**Thnks Fr Th Mmrs**_** by **_**Fall Out Boy**_**. Possible oneshot? Maybe not. It's all up to you. Would you like me to continue?**


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